Lead and Follow
by loservillealive
Summary: Even heroes can't save everyone. BEVIN, ANGSTY, SHORT-ISH ONESHOT. Read the warnings.


Disclaimer: Ben 10, etc., copyright MOA.  
Title: Lead and Follow  
Fandom: Ben 10: Alien Force  
Characters: Ben; implied Kevin, Julie, Gwen, etc.  
Category: Slash/gay/yaoi/shounen-ai/BL/Homo-sex-you-all  
Pairing: Bevin; possibly one-sided Ben/Kevin, in this case.  
Setting: N/A  
Rating: PG for "emo themes" (SPOILER: non-graphic character death)  
Style: Oneshot; standalone  
Notes: This isn't really intended to be a songfic, more like a fic with a soundtrack... I hate how the beginnings of this fic don't match the damn endings of it. [angry] And how once I started writing the fic, it didn't match with the song anymore. UGH.  
[12122008]

**  
_iSomday, when I'm older and they never know my name, somehow, if I'm honest, I could never feel ashamed.  
Maybe I was wrong to hold you up so high.  
Now I know I've lost you to the feelings I kept inside.  
I don't know if it feels like I wanted you here the way that I wanted you last time.  
We're not on the same page; you don't even know me, 'cause you never took the time.  
Someday, when it's over && you never show your face, I hope you remember how I tried to make you a place.  
&& so now I move on, to keep my peace of mind.  
In some ways, I've failed you. But I just ran out of time./i  
_**_  
_It isn't so hard, really. Not to say that it still isn't hard at all, but it isn't as devastating as he'd thought it would be. Maybe betrayal just has less impact the second time around.

At least he isn't the only one who'd had the thought, though. But everyone keeps giving him these looks--the kind you get when you're seven and you come home from school and there's a knock at your door and you don't know the person and it takes your mom five minutes to figure out how to tell you your dog got ran over. Those kinds of looks. Those your-childhood-best-friend-is-dead-and-I-don't-know-how-to-fix-it looks.

Maybe it isn't as hard because it was his fault, because he was the one who did it. He thinks for sure that is the reason, but at least no one is giving him looks saying that it didn't have to be done. He was sure he knew it had to be done.

No one's exactly making this easy. Not to say that it was at all hard, but it isn't as painless as he'd hoped would be. Maybe he was hanging on to the hope that it would have less impact the second time around, but apparently it doesn't. He thinks maybe it just hurts a little less, he just becomes a little more numb.

But, still, everyone keeps giving him these looks. i_Those/i_ kind of looks. Those your-childhood-best-friend-is-dead-and-I-don't-know-how-to-fix-this-and-I'm-so-sorry-it-turned-out-this-way looks.

Maybe it isn't as easy because it was his fault, because he was the one who did it. Everyone knows he was the one who did it, but he thinks everyone knows it was his fault it had to happen, too... No one's giving him looks that say it didn't have to be done, but someone specific is giving him looks that say there was another option.

He knew there was another option; he just didn't want to go through it all again.

Apparently he's being forced to anyway. Everyone one of those looks just takes him straight back...

It's just not the same, to be honest. Which isn't to say that it's completely different, but--okay, yes. It's absolutely different. Instead of happiness, there is sadness and monotony. Instead of muscles, there are breasts; instead of his hand slipping down past the waistband of blue jeans, it slips up past the hem of a white skirt. Instead of a boy, there is a fucking girl.

'i_Why is there a fucking girl_?/i' he thinks with no animosity, because he knows why.

The pages in the journal his psychologist makes him keep read:

Where are you when I need you? You turn your back on me like a jackass to oppositions.  
Where are you when I need you? You are lost or hiding or both.  
Where are you when I need you? You aren't hearing anything I'm saying, especially not the way you're meant to.  
Where are you when I need you? You are changing before my eyes; I'm sure it's my fault.  
Where are you when I need you?  
I saw you in the future once. Maybe you're on your way there, now.  
Where are you when I need you?

Everything translates to that one question.  
*

'i_In the Null-fucking-Void, that's where you are,/i' _ he spits at the sky one day. A week later he sees a sad mother driving a green Comaro that looks out-of-place with her, and he growls at the sidewalk, 'i_Where you fucking belong, that's where you are./i'_

A month later, he's standing in pouring rain on what is still rubble of the bridge on which he had to do Kevin in.

"Fucking dead, that's where you are," he mumbles to the lapping waves, and wades out into the bay.


End file.
